With His Love (For His Pleasure, Book 16) (6 page)

Red laughed. “Yeah. It was a pretty wild scene. I wish you’d come.”

“You know me, I love a wild scene.”

“Hold on, I’ll tell you about it in a sec.” He lumbered into the bathroom, presumably to wash up and brush his teeth. When he came out again, he had on a t-shirt and boxers and nothing else. He slid into bed and got close to her.

Nicole could smell the minty scent of toothpaste, but also a little bit of beer still.

And maybe cigarettes or cigars, some sort of smoky aroma that was still clinging to him.

She wrinkled her nose as Red encircled her in his strong arms.

“It was crazy, babe. There were like twenty guys there, all the top guys on the UFF roster, hanging out and shooting the shit with me and Patrick and Jeb. They were great guys, with really funny stories to tell. And they can sure drink, too.”

“What about girls?”

“Huh?”

“Were there girls hanging out as well?”

He paused. “Sure. A few.”

She felt her stomach knot and a flash of jealousy coursed through her system.

“No wonder you stayed out so late. Sounds like old times.”

“Honey. I didn’t say more than a polite few words to any women tonight. I swear to God.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but it still gives me a weird feeling. You were out for hours and hours.”

“Well, everyone was having a blast, and then we all went up to the gym and started playing drinking games and some of the guys were wrestling and play fighting and…”

“It sounds great,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear anymore. Something told her it wasn’t just the guys wrestling each other. More than likely, there were very buxom ladies in attendance, and not shy ones either. This was some never-never land for boys and she didn’t belong here.

He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I just lost track of time is all. Did you check in on Riley?”

“She’s fine. I spoke with Danielle earlier and she was feeding her…” Nicole’s eyes filled with tears as she was suddenly caught with a wave of homesickness, and missing Riley terribly. She wished she could go look in on her at that exact moment.

“It’s okay,” Red told her, and held her even closer. He kissed the back of her neck and pulled her in, whispering in her ear. “I love you so much. Do you want to go home early? We can leave first thing in the morning if you want.”

“No, I’m fine,” she whispered. “I’m just being a silly baby.”

“You’re not being silly. I’m sorry I brought you out here and then left you alone for so long. I’m an ass.”

“It’s fine,” she told him. “I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Well, if you don’t,” Red replied, “just say the word and we’ll get the hell out of Dodge.”

And with that, his voice trailed off and then he was breathing deeply.

Red had just passed out, she realized. Sure, it was incredibly late at night, but that wasn’t why he’d dropped unconscious so suddenly. He’d been drunk. She’d almost never seen him like that; maybe just a couple of times in all the while she’d known him.

It didn’t warm her to this environment any further, knowing that it had this kind of effect on her husband. Then again, she had to try and look at it from his point of view.

They were wining and dining him, making him feel special, treating him like a returning king, and he was reconnecting with his brother.

Maybe tomorrow, things would be different.

***

Nicole met the elusive Patrick at breakfast the next morning.

A skeleton crew had opened the restaurant for the four guests, and the chefs were making everything and anything to order, no menu required.

While they waited for the food to be ready, Red and Patrick and Jeb joked about the previous evenings festivities. At least, Red tried to joke along with the other two, but he seemed much the worse for wear.

“What’s the matter—can’t hold your liquor anymore?” Patrick asked, giving Jeb a look.

The two of them started laughing at Red’s expense.

Meanwhile, Nicole’s hung over husband was nursing a black coffee and looking haggard. “I definitely can’t party all night long like I used to,” he admitted.

“You don’t say,” Patrick replied, winking at Nicole.

She smiled the ghost of a smile, not wanting to be rude. At the same time, she found herself absolutely repelled by this man. His full name was Patrick Keating, and he was almost insufferably arrogant, his humor juvenile, and he wasn’t nearly as handsome as he seemed to think himself.

He had reddish brown, slightly curly hair that seemed only casually styled, pale skin and hazel eyes. He smiled like an imp, often throwing out barbed remarks that he laughed slyly at, whether they were funny or not.

Sure, Jeb and Red seemed to find him charming, but Nicole wasn’t impressed.

“I think I might need a nap,” Red told them, as the servers came out with plates of eggs and bacon, bowls of fruit, omelets, toast, waffles and crepes.

“This is enough food to feed an army,” Jeb said.

“Stomach going to hold out all right?” Patrick asked Red, grinning again.

“Hope so,” Red told him, eyeing the food warily.

Nicole was losing her appetite just from having to sit across from Patrick. She sipped her coffee and ate the fruit, picking at her omelet. As the men talked, she wondered what Patrick Keating’s story really was. She knew almost nothing about him.

“You know what you could use,” Patrick said, after only a short bit of quiet while he’d shoveled food in his mouth.

“What’s that?” Red asked.

“We need to get this man some Mimosas.”

“Great idea,” Jeb said, laughing wildly.

Nicole found she didn’t even like Jeb very much in his new incarnation. When she’d met previously, he’d seemed like a gentle, kind guy—just like a family doctor would be if you’d imagined him into existence. This new Jeb was brash, loud and interested in pushing Red in all the wrong directions.

“I don’t know,” Nicole said. “Red barely made it out of the hotel room this morning. If he drinks now, he probably won’t have much left for tonight.”

“That’s exactly wrong, Nicole,” Patrick said.

Her eyes narrowed and she felt her jaw tense. “Oh? You know my husband better than I do, I guess?”

Patrick laughed. “Correction. I know alcohol better than you do. And the fact is, a little bit of the poison that got him in this regrettable state, will act as an antidote. Try it and see. Just one Mimosa, Red.”

Red looked at Nicole, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “They’re commonly served with breakfast,” he said, “so it can’t be all bad.”

“I think they’re usually served at brunch, but have it your way.”

“Ah, she’s a great sport,” Patrick said, pointing at Nicole. “You said this lady was cool, and now I can see why.”

But he wasn’t fooling her at all. Nicole didn’t like him—and he most certainly didn’t like her. And as they brought the Mimosas to the table a few minutes later, Nicole liked Patrick even less.

Because she decided to take out her cell phone and surreptitiously Google his name, and what came up nearly made her eyes bug out of her head.

Patrick Keating’s claim to fame wasn’t opening hotels and restaurants and casinos. No, his big moneymaker was a series of pornographic videos, all falling under the banner of a website called Sorority Wildlife. Basically, it was just college-aged girls posing nude and having sex, and Patrick Keating and his little motley crew filmed it all, sometimes even obviously bribing girls with cash on the spot.

There were articles about him and how he’d built a fortune around exploiting young women and making it seem cool. Now, apparently, he was branching out into other “guy centric” areas, such as this new casino.

It left a sour taste in her mouth, and it wasn’t just the bitter orange juice.

Meanwhile, Red was drinking his Mimosa and the energy was returning to his body, and his eyes were lighting up with excitement, as the plans were laid for the coming day and evening.

“I told you a little hair of the dog would work wonders,” Patrick laughed, as Red began showing signs of life again.

Red finished his first Mimosa and started a second. “I think the coffee helped too,” Red said, trying to appease Nicole.

She wanted nothing to do with the conversation, putting her phone away and trying hard just to keep her mouth shut. What she really wanted to do was give this Patrick Keating asshole a piece of her mind. But she couldn’t embarrass Red that way.

She cared about him too much, and she knew this whole endeavor was important to him.

The thing was, at some point they were going to need to have a real talk about the reality of the situation, which was that Nicole simply had no interest in moving here.

And she wouldn’t stand for Red being away from her and Riley for twelve months, no matter how often he tried to fly home.

Still, she knew that now wasn’t the time for that sort of discussion. Let Red and his “boys” have their fun for today.

“This has been the best trip,” Red mused, smiling as he put down his drink and put a forkful of stuffed crepe in his mouth. “Everything’s been perfect.”

“It’s not over yet. I’ve still got the best surprise waiting for tonight,” Patrick teased.

“Come on, then. Tell me what it is. Does Jeb know?”

Jeb shook his head. “Nope. He doesn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Come on,” Red said. “Tell me already. What’s up for today?”

“Not today, tonight,” Patrick replied.

Red took another bite of crepe. “Let me guess. You’re going to bring John Lennon back from the dead and make him play us a private concert.”

“Better than that.”

“I’m all out of guesses.”

Patrick waited until the anticipation had built to its peak, and then he spoke. “I’ve gotten together a few gentleman for a friendly game of poker tonight.”

“Poker?” Red asked, sitting forward.

Nicole glanced nervously at him. His whole demeanor had changed, like a switch had been flipped. He looked like he was ready to go and play right there and then.

“A private game in my personal hotel room,” Patrick continued. “With some of the best known players in the world.”

“Like who?”

Patrick looked extremely pleased with himself as he sat back in his chair. “How about a living poker legend; Dicky “Three Card” Bramford, for starters?”

Red’s jaw dropped. “You’re not serious. Dicky Bramford plays the highest stakes in the world. He doesn’t sit down unless the game is huge.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be cheap to sit in this game,” Patrick said. “But he’s not the only famous player I corralled.”

Red was still shaking his head. “Dicky Bramford. He practically invented Texas Hold ‘Em.”

“What about Bill “The Chill” Icenhower?”

“No fucking way,” Red nearly shouted.

Nicole put a hand to her forehead. “Relax, honey. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Red looked at her. “Sorry, it’s just—yeah, it kind of is. Bill Icenhower is probably the coolest, toughest poker player on the planet right now. He’s this relatively young guy who grew up playing poker and living out of his car. For a while he was almost homeless, and now he’s one of the richest men in the world because he’s a poker genius. He’s the most feared player alive.”

“That’s really great, Red. But how much money does it cost to play with these people?”

Patrick and Red exchanged glances, and Nicole could tell that they were gauging how to answer her question diplomatically.

“It’s certainly not cheap,” Patrick said.

“Why am I not surprised?” Nicole said. “And of course, these amazing poker sharks aren’t coming to play in a game without some rich fish to make it worth their while.”

“Your wife’s not dumb, is she?” Patrick said.

Red laughed. “No, she’s not.”

Patrick toyed with his Mimosa glass. “Of course, the pros are only here to win money. But the rich fish, as you put it, doesn’t have to oblige them. For instance, I think I can hold my own with these players,” Patrick said, tilting his head up and daring Nicole to say otherwise. “As for Red, he’ll have to decide whether he’s willing to risk it or not.”

Red glanced at Nicole. “We don’t have to agree to anything now,” he said.

“We’ll talk about it later, in private.”

She nodded, feeling confused and anxious, and a little sick of being the spoilsport.

“Anyway,” Jeb said, breaking the awkward silence that had descended upon the table, “why don’t we all meet back up a little later this afternoon for the Jeffrey Taylor magic show?”

“He’s the guy that does all those crazy illusions?” Red asked.

“Yeah, he’s amazing,” Patrick said. “Blows the other guys away—I promise you two will love it. Even you, Nicole.”

She wanted to respond, but everyone was getting up by then, and the time had passed.

As they went back to their hotel room, Nicole was quiet and Red noticed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can tell you’re not having a great time.”

She looked at him. “What was that crap Patrick said to me at the end of breakfast? About how
even
I
would enjoy the magic show?”

“He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s not always the most tactful guy.”

“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, given everything else I know about him.”

Red’s brow creased. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, I know he’s in the pornography business. I know what he does, Red.”

Red laughed, as the elevator doors opened, letting them out. They started toward their suite. “Honey, a lot of people are invested in that business—you’d be surprised how many so-called reputable folks have their hands in that pot.”

“So that makes it okay? And he’s more than invested in it. That’s his bread-and-butter, and he’s sleazy about it. I don’t like him.”

Red opened the door and sighed. “I think you’re being a little unfair, Nicole, and more than a little judgmental, too.”

“Am I? He’s an asshole. He’s arrogant and misogynistic.”

Red just laughed. He didn’t even look at her as he crossed the room and grabbed the remote control for the TV. “Patrick’s a little high energy at times, I’ll grant you that.

But he’s harmless. And he’s always been a good friend to me in the past.”